I was pretty worried about starting Kindergarten this week; by Friday I had observed three classes, spent two hours considering possible lessons, listened to several songs for kindergartners, and spent more time than all of the above in a slightly worried state about teaching the kids. It was the perfect time for a trip to a local hot springs.
I had forgotten until the week before that the school funded a trip to a hot springs for all the foreign teachers. Being an American, I had never been to one before, but from what I've heard, it's the perfect thing for a worried soul. After all, what's more relaxing than sitting in very hot water?
Before the hot springs, the school also budgeted to pay for a lunch of our choosing. Alex, who has been here the longest out of our circle and seems to know the city like Sherlock knew London, happened to know an enterprising restaurant owner who was starting a studio restaurant where we could eat lunch.We unanimously agreed upon the location, ordered our meals the day before and set out on Saturday morning.
I was surprised to see that the restaurant had been kidnapped from its native pasture in downtown Frederick and transplanted next to a small street in Shijiazhuang; it had the unabashed blend of strong, clean features mixed with industrial modern-deco that has proliferated in coffee shops and cafes in my hometown. The furniture was all simple black and white, surrounded by tasteful, black and white stock photos of books and fruit, with one wall of exposed brick, an ancient spotlight in the corner, and an unfinished but whitewashed ceiling to top everything off. I received cream of mushroom soup, a spaghetti appetizer and a simple chicken entree. Though the dishes came quite slowly, I still give the chef credit because every dish was authentic; there were no Chinese ingredients in what I or anyone else ordered.
After the meal, most of us got a drink from the also trendy coffee shop situated directly beneath the studio. Again, just like any Frederick Coffee shop, though this time a little less refined.
And finally, we were off to the springs.
The hots springs were not that far from the city, only about 30 minutes, but within that time one of the teachers found an interesting word on the dictionary app we all use. I have since confirmed that the word is as vulgar as I first thought it was, so I won't repeat it here, but I will say I'll never think of green tea the same way.
After that interesting vocabulary lesson we were at the hot spring, and I realized that it wasn't a stand alone location; it was the major attraction of a medium sized resort, tucked in the middle among a small aquarium and some hotel buildings. This location gave me the impression that if it was in America, middle-class families would probably buy timeshares there.
The staff greeted us from the moment we stepped off the bus, and within minutes we were whisked into the changing room, given robes and flipflops, and then we had the run of the hot springs. I was expecting a more singular hot spring to be honest; one where it was all pretty much one pool, or a single spring that fed other little pools, but this place was actually a slew of distributed pools of different shapes, temperatures, and additives.
Additives? As in, one pool was sprite-bottle green with tea, and another had fish in it which cost an extra 36 rmb. Somewhere there was supposed to be a pool with rose petals. And I'm not sure what they put in the 'Happy Man' pool, but it was probably different than the nearby 'Happy Woman' pool. (To be honest, I don't think either 'Happy' pool had any surprises; otherwise they would have charged extra.)
We teachers started in a mid-range pool, that was 40-42C (104-108F). As one may expect, getting in was a slow affair, a kind of upside down version of that Calvin and Hobbes strip. After settling in the heat, I started to appreciate the allure of hot springs; it was fairly relaxing, and you couldn't ask for a less demanding social activity.
After about fifteen minutes, the group decided to move on to a different spring, and most of us migrated to a scented one named after some kind of tea. At long last, the kindergarten problem re-appeared. Erika, who teaches kindergarten already, asked me how I felt about it. After saying that sometimes I would rather sit in the spring while it was filled with ice than teach 3 year olds, she and a couple other teachers with experience told me about some of the ups and downs to teaching kids in that age range. I'm not really sure if their input helped or not, but before long, a couple of the guys moved on to another spring and I joined them.
We sat in a few different pools, but eventually we decided it was time for something a bit more exciting. Anndrew (no typo), Ruud and I shelled out the money to sit with the fishes. They were in a shallow little pool, and when you sit among them they nibble away at any dead skin they find, aggressively exfoliating anything that enters their watery arena. Instantly, I regretted it. I had done the same thing at Greenbrier back home, but those fish were smaller, less hungry and less well-trained than these fishes. It wasn't painful or 'uncomfortable,' but something about those fish really unsettled me, and I couldn't take it for very long. It was as though the sensation of the nibbling fish filled my mind, a sort of tickling that blotted out everything else. Very weird.
Next was a sauna, which was far more pleasant; it may have been my favorite part of the trip. I've never appreciated a sauna before, but I think because I actually had something to relax from, I got more out of it than usual. While I laid on the dark room's matted floor, in a sort of sensory deprivation, I thought about my job. And I realized how stupid I'd been about the whole thing. They were just kids; they probably couldn't tell if I was teaching them English or math, and they certainly didn't care if I made a fool of myself. As I relaxed in the timeless heat, I remembered that someone had once told me that all those kids want to do is play, they live to play, so the only thing I have to worry about was making the lesson fun. And if I based my lessons on songs from the internet, and gave them pictures to stare at or paper to scribble on, they would be happy.
They say that the reason saunas feel good is because you sweat out a lot of toxins while you sit in them. I think I sweated out not just my toxins, but also my concerns. In the next hot spring, which was a lobster cooking 44 C, I also came up with a good lesson. And just like that, I got over my kindergarten problem.
And isn't that why people started siting in very hot water to begin with?
If you want to see pictures of my studio cooked meal, I've added such photos to my album. Unfortunately, I did not get any pictures of the hot spring itself, since I wasn't comfortable with the idea of carrying my phone between pools of water.
Wednesday, April 20, 2016
Tuesday, April 12, 2016
Shake that Shade
Everyone has had those 'too good to be true' moments, where they were right; things really were too good, and when they decided to change, they changed for the absolute worst. I'm pretty sure that's happening to me now.
My first month in China has been a total blast so far; I've done so much new stuff, seen so many cool and strange things, and enjoyed the abundance of freedom and cheap food. And I was getting well paid to do work that I enjoyed, that challenged me and helped me grow.
But, one aspect of my situation that has bugged me, a kind of worm of doubt, is that I'm not really qualified to teach at this school. I've been carrying my weight, but I don't have the certification, or really the right visa, to be a professional teacher in China, and especially not at a magnet school like #43. Knowing this, the school informed me from day one, since before I arrived, that I would actually just be filling the position until a qualified teacher arrived. At the time, I figured that probably meant, upon his arrival, my pay would be reduced by half, or so, the new teacher would take some of my classes, and life would continue about as it had before.
But I was wrong about all of that.
David, the new teacher, arrived at the end of last week. And my director told me he would actually handle all of my previous classes, and that I would be moved into the Kindergarten, where I will teach about 8 classes a week compared to my earlier 21. Because of these reduced hours, my salary will also be reduced to about a quarter of my original income; down to roughly 2200 yuan ($340) a month.
I guess, generally, this would not be a terrible blow. But, budgeting for a 50% decrease, I had planned a trip to Shanghai with the other teachers, and enrolled in a Chinese class that already costs about 2000 yuan a month. And my tutoring students don't bring in quite enough to live off. And there is the fact that I have actually no experience teaching five-year-olds. And, of course, I did not say goodbye to all of my previous classes.
Obviously, the pay decrease is something of a problem, but my new students are also kind of worrying me. I've already figured out from my previous classes and tutoring students that while all the kids I teach are cool enough, I do prefer to teach older kids; they are able to understand the higher concepts and technical nuances that I like to teach about. But kindergartners, as far as I have seen, have little capacity to understand these things in a second language, especially when they've only just become proficient in their first.
So, with this re-assignment, a cloud is passing in front of the sun here in Shijiazhuang. I have no doubt it will pass in time, but it is a bummer while it lasts. I guess while the shade is here, I'll rest in it, and pick up some more tutoring students to fill my schedule and wallet.
By the way, you guys don't worry too much; pray if you feel compelled to help. Financially, I'm already reacting by cutting back on my Chinese lessons from three times a week to only twice. I've also figured out my eating situation so that it's economic and healthy. And I just got my state and federal tax returns if I need some emergency cash from the ATM. As for teaching Kindergarten, there's less I can do to prepare, though I am doing what I can.
Oh, and I took a few more pictures that can be found in the album. You know, if you're a pictures kind of person.
Wednesday, April 6, 2016
Go Tai He buy Miao Mi, no Xiao Mi.
After arriving in China, I had managed to buy a soldering iron in less than 72 hours. But I had no solder to use it with. I scoured the aisle in the store where I bought it, and I inspected almost every street on the block for some place that would sell it, but no one was selling solder. Then, one night when the teachers were out for drinks, in the dim, smoky light of the bar, Ross told me about Tai He; a multi story electronics market, where one could buy anything that was made with silicon, and one could buy it at Chinese prices. Since I also needed a phone, and some electronic components, this sounded like some El Dorado I didn't know I was looking for. I decided to make a quest of it: Acquire Solder of Fixing and Phone of Communication (+10 Repair Skill, +20 Chinese Skill, +50 exp.)
I planned and embarked on a trip to Tai He that weekend, for it is only a 30-40 minute bus ride away. After wandering into and around what I believe is Shijiazhuang's shopping district, and going up and down the wrong building, I finally found Tai He, and was immediately confused. Remember waterbottle street? Well, I found its electronic cousin. (And in the words of MMORPG fans, "it is time to raid the dungeon.")
Within 6 stories, there were hundreds of vendors, many selling the same products. I must have seen a dozen people selling the same electric razors, phone cords, chargers, flashlights, phones, radios, security cameras, ethernet cord and everything else. There was half a floor dedicated to karaoke equipment, and another floor dedicated to high-end PC hardware. And yet another floor focused on phones. There were thousands of phones, of every brand and model.
It was on this floor that I was trying to buy a phone, in broken Chinese, with a poor concept of what I needed and how much it should cost. I kind of felt like I was blindly wandering the map, in awe of the shopkeeper's wares, but acutely aware of how low my barter skill was.
The first shop I tried did not work out. I tried to tell them I wanted something cheap that didn't come with a plan, because I had no credit card to pay for such a plan. That confused them to no end, and I realized I they were probably getting more frustrated than I was. I abandoned that dialogue tree and looked for another stall.
Within seconds I was hailed by another salesman.
"Hello!" He said.
"说英语吗？" (Do you speak English?) I responded, hopefully.
Of course, he didn't. But his phone did, so we were in business. The man was no slick-suited, quick-talking stereotype that could sell you a phone that cost more than a car; he was actually a t-shirt wearing 20 something with a phone case that looked like a hundred Yuan note.
This image of sophistication was pleasant enough to work with, and put up with my poor ability to communicate what I wanted. Obviously, I needed a name brand phone, but I also wanted a cheap one. Then, seeing the products the salesman produced, I realized I also need a phone with an English operating system. (Quest requirements: Phone, price < 500 rmb, cannot have Phone Plan Curse, needs to be American Class compatible.)
He showed me a couple phones, and I remembered that Xiao Mi was a brand know for decent quality at reasonable prices, sort of like Samsung before they started edging into Apple's high-end market. I told the salesman I wanted to see a Xiao Mi, he said sure, and he showed me a pretty slick looking smartphone with an English operating system and two SIM card slots. Originally, I was planning on spending as little as possible on this phone, but after seeing the double SIM slots, I realized I could put a Chinese SIM and American SIM in it, and take it back tot the States with me. Since it had every feature I knew I needed, and one I didn't know I needed, I bought the phone, despite it going a bit above budget.
But, before I actually handed over the cash, I realized what a dunce I was! I was buying a phone from a nameless kiosk in China after all.
So, I had the salesman call his phone from the one I was about to buy, just to make sure it worked. Satisfied that it did, I picked up my new Xiao Mi, the SIM card I had bought to go with it, and got out of there for only 800rmb ($125). Obviously, I had been intelligent and careful, and definitely had not made any mistakes buying this Xiao Mi phone.
Next on my list was the elusive solder. On the floor where the man sold me the Xiao Mi, there were also tons of little shops were guys hunched over desks repairing phones with spare parts. Obviously, these guys would need solder, but most of them didn't seem to want to talk to me, perhaps they were non-interactive NPC's. Eventually though, I found a guy repairing radios, and asked him where I could buy some. The dialogue tree wasn't really working out, since I couldn't understand most of it, but he caught my drift and pulled his own roll of solder out of his inventory.
There was sort of an odd moment: I realized it would be a total pain trying to get this guy to tell me where I could buy my own roll, and his roll was basically full, and I actually knew a reasonable price for this stuff. So I said, "我会买这个焊锡." (I will buy this solder.) This prompted a look of confusion and surprise, but before the man could respond, his wife, who I had not seen, said it would cost 20 rmb, which was actually a good price. Quest completed, I made my way out of the dense, labyrinthine market.
On my way out I happened upon a green 100 mw laser that only cost 60 rmb. I had been questing for something like that since I was about 10, so I snatched up that great loot drop, content to buy it for half to a fifth the American price without even bartering.
And that would have marked the end of the quest, except that I stopped in McDonalds to get a better look at my new toys. And the man sitting across from me noticed the box that my phone had came in. And he told me, that my phone was a Miao Mi. And after a second, I realized that it was not, in fact, a Xiao Mi. I had bought one of the infamous Chinese Fake Products.
And that is, hopefully, the dumbest thing I do in China.
(Fortunately, the phone works, and is actually really nice to have. But, after thinking on it for a while, I realized it's kind of the penultimate Chinese phone: It's a knock off, the English is always a bit off, it came with WeChat already installed, and it has this kind of suspicious perpetual low memory error. Also, all the apps, including the app-market, are in Chinese, so I've started loading *.apk's onto it from my American phone so I can do more besides just talk and text.)
I planned and embarked on a trip to Tai He that weekend, for it is only a 30-40 minute bus ride away. After wandering into and around what I believe is Shijiazhuang's shopping district, and going up and down the wrong building, I finally found Tai He, and was immediately confused. Remember waterbottle street? Well, I found its electronic cousin. (And in the words of MMORPG fans, "it is time to raid the dungeon.")
Within 6 stories, there were hundreds of vendors, many selling the same products. I must have seen a dozen people selling the same electric razors, phone cords, chargers, flashlights, phones, radios, security cameras, ethernet cord and everything else. There was half a floor dedicated to karaoke equipment, and another floor dedicated to high-end PC hardware. And yet another floor focused on phones. There were thousands of phones, of every brand and model.
It was on this floor that I was trying to buy a phone, in broken Chinese, with a poor concept of what I needed and how much it should cost. I kind of felt like I was blindly wandering the map, in awe of the shopkeeper's wares, but acutely aware of how low my barter skill was.
The first shop I tried did not work out. I tried to tell them I wanted something cheap that didn't come with a plan, because I had no credit card to pay for such a plan. That confused them to no end, and I realized I they were probably getting more frustrated than I was. I abandoned that dialogue tree and looked for another stall.
Within seconds I was hailed by another salesman.
"Hello!" He said.
"说英语吗？" (Do you speak English?) I responded, hopefully.
Of course, he didn't. But his phone did, so we were in business. The man was no slick-suited, quick-talking stereotype that could sell you a phone that cost more than a car; he was actually a t-shirt wearing 20 something with a phone case that looked like a hundred Yuan note.
This image of sophistication was pleasant enough to work with, and put up with my poor ability to communicate what I wanted. Obviously, I needed a name brand phone, but I also wanted a cheap one. Then, seeing the products the salesman produced, I realized I also need a phone with an English operating system. (Quest requirements: Phone, price < 500 rmb, cannot have Phone Plan Curse, needs to be American Class compatible.)
He showed me a couple phones, and I remembered that Xiao Mi was a brand know for decent quality at reasonable prices, sort of like Samsung before they started edging into Apple's high-end market. I told the salesman I wanted to see a Xiao Mi, he said sure, and he showed me a pretty slick looking smartphone with an English operating system and two SIM card slots. Originally, I was planning on spending as little as possible on this phone, but after seeing the double SIM slots, I realized I could put a Chinese SIM and American SIM in it, and take it back tot the States with me. Since it had every feature I knew I needed, and one I didn't know I needed, I bought the phone, despite it going a bit above budget.
But, before I actually handed over the cash, I realized what a dunce I was! I was buying a phone from a nameless kiosk in China after all.
So, I had the salesman call his phone from the one I was about to buy, just to make sure it worked. Satisfied that it did, I picked up my new Xiao Mi, the SIM card I had bought to go with it, and got out of there for only 800rmb ($125). Obviously, I had been intelligent and careful, and definitely had not made any mistakes buying this Xiao Mi phone.
Next on my list was the elusive solder. On the floor where the man sold me the Xiao Mi, there were also tons of little shops were guys hunched over desks repairing phones with spare parts. Obviously, these guys would need solder, but most of them didn't seem to want to talk to me, perhaps they were non-interactive NPC's. Eventually though, I found a guy repairing radios, and asked him where I could buy some. The dialogue tree wasn't really working out, since I couldn't understand most of it, but he caught my drift and pulled his own roll of solder out of his inventory.
There was sort of an odd moment: I realized it would be a total pain trying to get this guy to tell me where I could buy my own roll, and his roll was basically full, and I actually knew a reasonable price for this stuff. So I said, "我会买这个焊锡." (I will buy this solder.) This prompted a look of confusion and surprise, but before the man could respond, his wife, who I had not seen, said it would cost 20 rmb, which was actually a good price. Quest completed, I made my way out of the dense, labyrinthine market.
On my way out I happened upon a green 100 mw laser that only cost 60 rmb. I had been questing for something like that since I was about 10, so I snatched up that great loot drop, content to buy it for half to a fifth the American price without even bartering.
And that would have marked the end of the quest, except that I stopped in McDonalds to get a better look at my new toys. And the man sitting across from me noticed the box that my phone had came in. And he told me, that my phone was a Miao Mi. And after a second, I realized that it was not, in fact, a Xiao Mi. I had bought one of the infamous Chinese Fake Products.
And that is, hopefully, the dumbest thing I do in China.
(Fortunately, the phone works, and is actually really nice to have. But, after thinking on it for a while, I realized it's kind of the penultimate Chinese phone: It's a knock off, the English is always a bit off, it came with WeChat already installed, and it has this kind of suspicious perpetual low memory error. Also, all the apps, including the app-market, are in Chinese, so I've started loading *.apk's onto it from my American phone so I can do more besides just talk and text.)
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